In Manhattan newspaper offices, telephones began jangling crazily. Angry voices wanted to know if the terrible rumor was true. It was. One choked-up caller exploded: "Geez, it's Poil Hobba for the Giants." Said another: "O.K., send a photographer down to Brooklyn Bridge in 20 minutes. I'm jumping off."
Mel Ott, manager of the New York Giants, had thrown in the sponge. Leo Durocher, who was hated worse by Giant fans than any living man, had resigned as manager of the arch-rival Brooklyn Dodgers—to take over Ott's job. Soft-spoken old Burt Shotton had soft-shoed back...
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